Page 65 - the-metamorphosis

ment, he was totally covered in dirt. On his back and his
sides he carted around with him dust, threads, hair, and
remnants of food. His indifference to everything was much
too great for him to lie on his back and scour himself on the
carpet, as he often had done earlier during the day. In spite
of his condition he had no timidity about inching forward a
bit on the spotless floor of the living room.
In any case, no one paid him any attention. The fam-
ily was all caught up in the violin playing. The lodgers, by
contrast, who for the moment had placed themselves, their
hands in their trouser pockets, behind the music stand
much too close to the sister, so that they could all see the
sheet music, something that must certainly bother the sis-
ter, soon drew back to the window conversing in low voices
with bowed heads, where they then remained, worriedly
observed by the father. It now seemed really clear that, hav-
ing assumed they were to hear a beautiful or entertaining
violin recital, they were disappointed, and were allowing
their peace and quiet to be disturbed only out of politeness.
The way in which they all blew the smoke from their cigars
out of their noses and mouths in particular led one to con-
clude that they were very irritated. And yet his sister was
playing so beautifully. Her face was turned to the side, her
gaze followed the score intently and sadly. Gregor crept for-
ward still a little further and kept his head close against the
floor in order to be able to catch her gaze if possible. Was he
an animal that music so seized him? For him it was as if the
way to the unknown nourishment he craved was revealing
itself to him. He was determined to press forward right to

The Metamorphosis